Supply and Demand
by HardfacedQueenofMisadventure
Summary: Somebody else is stalking the streets and back-alleys of Crucifixus... and she will not spare you. Inspired by Emilie Autumn's Scavenger. T for general morbidity and cordial discussion of murder and dissection.


**What do you get when you combine Repo! with the wonderful Ms Emilie Autumn? A match made in Heaven, that's what! This is just a fict hat sprang into my head when I was listening to the song Scavenger. I started off thinking that it pretty much summed up Graverobber, and I started to write a oneshot for him, but something changed and an entirely new character came into being. This is a oneshot for now, but I may consider writing a full-fledged story for Scavenger at some point. For now, simply enjoy this. **

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I am not a Repo Man. I do not work for GeneCo; I'd rather die than sell my craft to those monsters. Yet some people argue that I'm no better than them, that I'm nothing but a cold-hearted murderer.  
And no, I'm not entirely against killing, if there's a profit attached. But I don't kill for sport or pleasure. I have my reasons. It keeps me alive, keeps a roof over my head and money in my pockets. It's nothing personal, you see. We've all got mouths to feed after all, haven't we?

You think Zydrate is the only thing worth taking from the deceased? For a limited time after death, the entire body is a veritable treasure chest. The organs, if taken quickly, can be exchanged for a tidy sum of money.  
Who, you may ask, would pay for a batch of fresh organs? Think about it. While GeneCo became the go-to for the wealthy, the rest of us needed an option too. This is where illegal backstreet surgeries came into the picture. They're almost as safe as a licensed hospital, and infinitely cheaper, and they don't come with a pre-signed death warrant. The surgeons are charitable folk, if you call letting a person walk free after paying for their surgery charitable. And I suppose it is, given the alternative.

But…they need supplies, the same as any other hospital. Most of it is easy enough to come by: gauze, surgical equipment, Zydrate…all swiped easy as anything. But organs and blood are an entirely different matter. It's one thing to walk out of a storage warehouse with a year's supply of bandages and scalpels, getting your hands on organs is another matter entirely.  
That's where I come in. In a world where people turn up dead on a daily basis with no questions asked, the pickings are rich. Business is wonderful, as there is always a demand for a spare set of kidneys and the occasional heart. But, working with corpses is volatile and the fresher the tissue, the safer it is for use. I have to work quickly. It's exciting, in its own way. No, it's not a particularly glamorous job, but there is a certain satisfaction in it. When done correctly, it is an art form. There is a strange sort of beauty in it, in seeing the dead opened up like strange flowers, their innermost secrets laid bare to my watchful eyes and talented hands.

And the job is not without its other little perks, aside from a hefty paycheck. The dead have no need for diamonds, do they? Material wealth becomes meaningless once you leave this world; the jewels and finery you once coveted now worthless, not enough to buy you a place in Heaven, or to spare your corpse the indignity of slow decomposition.

Remember how I mentioned that I'm not entirely against killing? Well, there are a few organs that are only of use when they're at their freshest, and waiting around for somebody to drop dead never paid the bills, did it? I can't quite say that I _enjoy _it, but needs must, as the old saying goes.

But just because I haven't developed a taste for murder doesn't mean that I'm not something to fear as you would a Repo Man. I'll give you some advice: if you see me on a street corner, or in a graveyard… run. Just run. You see, human bodies are all the same to me, all one thing: profit. If you've a functioning heart in your chest, I won't spare you. Not even if you beg. I kill quickly, if that's any comfort at all.

My name? Well, since you asked… I don't have one as such, but I'm known around these parts as the Scavenger. Maybe someday we'll meet.

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**OTT? Possibly. Cliche? Probably. But I like it, so don't judge me. If you have any ideas for how you'd like to see this continued, expanded or revisited, feel free to tell me. Otherwise, just review. Flames are both rude and unnecessary, so don't bother with those. **


End file.
